It's Hard to Ignore the Dangers We Face
by mholub00
Summary: She pretends it doesn't hurt and he pretends to believe her. (One Shot)(Race to the Edge Season 3/4)


Astrid is the last to dismount when they land back on the Edge and Hiccup hears it before he sees it, the soft moan of pain as her feet hit solid ground. It's enough to make him turn around and toothless follows suite, boy and his dragon giving her the same exasperated look because her shirt is soaking up an insane amount of blood and dammit, Astrid, not again.

"Is something wrong?" She says, her smile faltering into a grimace, pretending she's not clutching her side.

Hiccup shakes his head, trying not to panic too much, and makes his way back to her side.

"I'm fine," she whispers without conviction in her voice, her eyes closing as she leans into him for support.

"I know," he says, pulls her arm around his shoulder, and leads her slowly back to her hut.

"They were shooting at Stormfly," Astrid half-heartedly explains. Hiccup lowers her carefully onto the edge of the bed and his heart skips a beat when she winces again; it must be bad if she's showing it this much. Maybe she's lost too much blood already, he can't calculate just how long it took them to fly back, or how early into the fight she was hit. Or maybe she just trusts him.

That's not a chance he's willing to take.

"They always are." He crosses the room to grab the bowl of fresh water and a decently clean towel.

"I'm not going to let them hit her," she says.

"You never will." He knows she's looking for him to argue and art of him wants to, the part of him that is mad at her for getting hurt again, the part of him that is furious with himself for not protecting her better, but he knows this will get them nowhere; Astrid tis too stubborn and he loves her for it. Instead, he takes his place next to her, his joints stiff from the day of riding, and simply moves her hands away from the stained section of fabric. She's shaking slightly and bites her lip as he pulls the shirt away, rips it from the already-existing and substantially sized hole, to see the extent of the damage.

"Gods, Astrid," Hiccup sighs.

"It's nothing."

"You have an arrow head stuck in your side."

"Just a scratch."

"And a lot of wood splinters."

"Doesn't even hurt," she mumbles and he pretends to believe her, but her face scrunches in pain as he begins to dab away at the blood. "You're worried for nothing."

Hiccup gives her the best glare he can muster and they lapse into silence as he goes about cleaning, sterilizing, and wrapping the gaping hole in his best friend's abdomen. This is really above his experience level, she really should go to a healer, but he tried that the last time and it didn't go over well so he keeps his mouth shut. Astrid watches him as he works, every now and then hissing in pain and tightening her grip on her skirt, on the side of the bed, on his knee. She knows that as much as she's trying to pretend it's nothing, she can't fool him, shouldn't fool him, and it's hard to be frustrated by his perceptiveness, at him for caring, when he's dislodging a piece of metal from under her skin.

He ties strips of cloth around her stomach and knots them tight, resolving that this is all he can do for now, hoping it's enough, and if it looks worse in a few days he will drag her back to Berk no matter what. For a second he stays eerily still, staring at his handy work, at the contrast of the rough fabric to the rest of her soft skin, and he reaches for one of her hands, squeezes it tightly between his own.

"You've got to stop doing this," he says. She pointedly avoids meeting his eyes, rests her head on his shoulder instead. He makes a list in his head, all the places he knows she has new scars just from the last few months of this war they've thrown themselves into: two on her left leg, right forearm, left shoulder.

"I don't know what I'd do if-"

"I know."

"Astrid…"

"I know," she says definitively, finally looking at him. "Me, too."

He rests his forehead against hers, takes a deep breath. He could keep her safe if they could stay right here, right like this, forever.

"Besides," she whispers, "my supply of un-blood-stained shirts won't last very long if I make this a habit." Hiccup rolls his eyes and she smiles.

A crash and flurry of shouting that sounds unmistakably like the Twins ends the moment and she lifts her head from his slowly, like a dragon not quite ready to wake up. He sighs and stands, gathering together the used supplies. She moves to follow him and he gives her a look, shakes his head.

"That's not going to get any better if you don't give it time," he says. It's her turn to roll her eyes but she sinks back on to the bed, knows that he is right. "I'll be back."

He's barely exited her hut when his head peeks back around the corner. "You could always start wearing red," he says. She raises her eyebrows and he shrugs. "Not that I'm saying I condone this 'constantly throwing yourself in harm's way' thing."

Astrid laughs despite the pain, calls after him as he disappears to go clean up another mess.

"Maybe I will."


End file.
